Happy
by SignsofSam
Summary: She was different. She wasn’t vibrant, wasn’t girly, wasn’t happy like he remembered; she looked tired, defeated, and sad; she looked as if she just wanted to get her life over with. To Julian, that didn't matter. He still loved her all the same. B/J.
1. One: Hurt

**Title: **Happy

**Author: **S.N. Brown

**Summary:** He gave her a rush then, and she didn't hear Haley's concerns, Julian's attempts at reconciliation. She went from a powerful, up-and-coming designer to what she was now, the punching bag of a drunk, in a matter of weeks, and stayed that powerless woman for nearly two years. But she had had enough. B/L. Twoshot

**Pairing: **Brooke/Julian

**Disclaimer:** I do not own OTH or the characters. I'm just boring them, and will put them back when I'm done playing. I also don't own **Happy** from Leona Lewis, which I have used in this and the final chapter.

**Author's Notes:** This is my first Brooke/Julian piece, and so I hope you all enjoy it. It deals with some difficult subject matter. Please tell me what you think!

**One: Hurt**

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_So what if it hurts me_

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"I'm not staying," Brooke Davis said quietly, despite the roar of her boyfriend's voice. "I'm sorry."

The force behind the hit made her stumble back, cracking her forehead on the edge of one of their corner tables as she twisted, trying to shield her body by planting her arms out. She felt the pain ripple down, making her shiver, but she let out a strangled breath, pushing herself up. "You're gonna stay," her boyfriend threatened, his meaty hand gripping her upper arm tightly. "You ain't got no where to go, you whore. All those little friends of yours'? They're gone. They left you when you chose me. So where you gonna go, huh? What are you gonna do without me here?"

Brooke let the words sink in, knew they had meaning behind them. It was true, she had chosen him, but only because she was hurt. Julian was spending more and more time with Alex, Millie had turned into a druggie, and Mouth was busy with that, Nathan and Haley had their own drama, and Brooke had been down and out when she had gone to Blue Bar and met the tall, strong-muscled bartender. He reminded her of no one she had been with before; he was broad-shouldered, he had long blond hair, he had grey eyes, and he was _dangerous_.

He gave her a rush then, and she didn't hear Haley's concerns, Julian's attempts at reconciliation, Millie's subsequent recover-all she heard, all she saw, was Kyle, and Kyle was all she knew.

She went from a powerful, up-and-coming designer to what she was now, the punching bag of a drunk, in a matter of weeks, and stayed that powerless woman for nearly two years.

But she had had enough.

She thought they could work it out. Sure, she and Kyle had problems, many, many problems, but she had been pregnant, and that was supposed to solve everything. He was supposed to be happy, and he was supposed to change, and he was supposed to change her world, he promised when she told him. That day, the day one week after finding out the news, she was two months along, he wasn't drinking, and, for once in years, she was truly happy.

She had been late making dinner, and he made her pay in the only way he knew how, by taking away the one thing she was living for, that small little thing in her, the child that depended on her…

He made sure Brooke knew that she let _their_ child down as he beat her so badly she lost the baby. Fist after fist slammed into her stomach, kick after kick delivered to the soft underside of her slightly swollen belly, and when she had started bleeding, when blood started pouring out of her, she knew it was the end.

Only eight weeks along, he killed their child.

He killed a part of Brooke.

And now, only two days later, still weak and weary with her movements, still slightly swaying from dizziness and losing too much blood, she really didn't care if he killed the other part.

"I might not have friends," she said, pushing hair out of her face. "I might be alone in this world, but so help me God, I am not staying with you, you monster. You will have to kill me to get me to stay here one more day. So get out of my way, Kyle, unless you plan on doing something a little more permanent to get me to stay."

He smiled maliciously, shoving her against the wall she had been holding onto for support. His hand wrapped around her neck, cutting off her air, and her façade fell. He was going to kill her. He was going to-

She saw the glint of his knife before the edge pierced her cheek. "You want som'in' permanent, darlin'?" His words were beginning to slur as a result of the three bottles of tequila he had gotten through tonight, and his hand slipped, dragging the knife down, and she felt it slice through her lip, a deep cut, but nothing serious, she surmised in her head, trying to keep her mind from panicking. She felt the knife drag down her chin, before the hand slipped again, and it sliced through the over-sized t-shirt she was wearing and cut the middle of her collarbone, the slope of her breast…

He stumbled, knees ready to give in, and she kicked him as hard as she could in the balls, hearing the knife clatter to the ground, but not focusing on it. She grabbed her purse, her jacket, both containing anything essential she would need, and left the small apartment without a look goodbye.

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_So what if I break down_

_-------------_

The phone was an old one of Kyle's she had convinced him she needed in case anything should go wrong at the apartment. Tears had come and gone, staining one side of her face with a rusty-color from where they had mixed with blood, and now she sat on a bench in an abandoned part in downtown Raleigh, staring at the phone in her hands, wondering if someone would pick up if she called.

_"You ever need help, you have me, you got it? I don't care what's been said and done…you have me."_

"I hope so," she murmured, punching in the numbers slowly, giving her time to think, to back out of it. But when she finished the phone number, her thumb pressed SEND before she could stop it, and she felt the tears returning as it rang.

Once.

Twice.

It cut off in the middle of the third ring, and soon she heard "Hello?"

"Julian?"

The breath that had been soft stopped, and she whispered his name again.

"Who is this? How did you get this number?"

"Julian?"

"Who is this?"

"Help me, please."

"Brooke?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't…I don't have anywhere else to go. Please, help me. Please." The tears were uncontrollable now, and a shaking hand wasn't helping with brushing them away.

"Brooke? It's you."

"You told me once that if I needed help, I could come to you. And I…oh God, I need help." She could hear a scraping noise, the shuffling of feet. "Julian, please. I don't have _anywhere_ else to go."

"Where are you?"

"Raleigh, in Pullen Park. I'm on a bench on the east side…"

"Okay, I'm coming, okay? I'll be there soon. Are you okay? You're safe?"

"You were right, about him. You were right-"

"Ssssh, Brooke. I don't care about that right now. _Are you okay_? That's all I need to know," Julian answered, and she felt a small sliver of something that felt strangely like hope, and it warmed her.

"I'm okay."

"Okay. Just hold on I'm coming."

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_So what if this world just throws me off the edge  
my feet run out of ground_

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"I'm gonna kill that son-of-a-bitch," Julian said to himself as he looked across the SUV to the passenger seat, where Brooke was curled up, asleep. She was different from before, a lot different. She had let her hair grow out, down to her shoulders, but it was still the deep brown he remembered, and her skin was still the soft light tan he remembered running his hands over in the early morning light after they made love, his lips pressing kisses into the creaminess.

Kisses had apparently turned to bruises, as they littered her body, he noticed disapprovingly, clung to nearly every inch he could see, some deep purple and black, others a fading green. The bulky jacket she was wearing surely hid more behind it, but he would wait until he got back to his house, until Haley was over, to deal with that.

She was different. She wasn't vibrant, wasn't girly, wasn't happy like he remembered; she looked tired, defeated, and sad; she looked as if she just wanted to get her life over with.

That pulled at his heart.

He had never stopped loving her. He had made some damn foolish mistakes when it came to their relationship and his dealings with Alex, but his heart had never stopped belonging to Brooke Davis. Even when she told him she had slept with another guy, even when she told him they were over and that she was moving on, even when she slapped him when he warned her about Kyle, when she told him to get out and never come back, his heart had never wavered in its loyalty. Not once in the two years since she had been gone had he made it past the first date with any girl, despite his trying.

His heart was made for one person, and that was Brooke Davis.

Even if she was broken, hurt.

He could show her happiness again.

"Thank you," she whispered, barely speaking, and he jumped, wondering if she heard him before. When he didn't answer her, she turned to him, and he flinched when he saw the cut on her face. "Thank you. I didn't know-"

"I told you I would come," he answered, reaching over to push a piece of her hair off her face, tempted to touch her cheek, touch her face…he pulled his hand away quickly. "You don't deserve this."

"I know," she said, her voice strong. "I know that. But I let it happen anyway, didn't I?"

"Let's not talk about it." They should, he knew, and they would, soon, but he wanted to get her home, get her fixed, get her in a warm bed where she could sleep, before they dealt with _it_. "Get some rest, Brooke. It'll be a couple of hours before we're home."

She flinched at the word, but didn't answer, and he sighed, wondering what it was going to take to make her realize that the sick bastard who messed up her world would never be associated with the word _home_ again.

The drive was long, and he knew she wasn't asleep, despite the fact that she kept her eyes closed, kept curled in the seat, a battered pair of Keds smearing dirt on his new seat. He wanted to say something, anything, to fight off the tension that thickened the inside of the car, but nothing would come to him.

He didn't know if there was anything he could say.

They arrived at his home just at dawn was breaking, a house on the beach in Tree Hill he had bought shortly after she left. Her house sat untouched, paid for by the Scotts and Julian, ready and waiting for her whenever she should return.

He recognized the Scott car sitting in his driveway, but didn't say anything to Brooke. He just hoped they hadn't brought Jamie with them. The boy loved his Aunt Brooke, but no nine-year-old needed to see her in the condition she was in. "This is it," he said as he pulled up the driveway, parking beside the Range Rover. She looked up, but didn't comment. He turned off the car and hurried out, to her side, opening the door before she could. He steadied her as she struggled to get out, ignoring her flinch as his arm circled her waist, ignoring her whimper as they walked. "There we go, nice and easy, Brooke. We've got all the time in the world," he encouraged her, earning a rare smile.

He opened the front door, letting her step through, lean against a wall before closing it again.

"Oh my God."

Haley's voice was a strangled cry, and Brooke jumped, wincing. She hadn't expected Haley and Nathan to be there, both looking at her, wide-eyed. Haley stepped forward, shaking her head. "I'm going to kill him," she murmured, taking her friend's hand. "I'm going to shoot the bastard."

"The guest bedroom first, Haley?" Julian said in a half-whisper, giving the girl a smile. She had a heart of gold, especially when it came to her friends. And despite Haley and Brooke fighting, Haley would never abandon a friend in her time of need. He watched as she turned into Momma Bear, coaxing and leading Brooke down the hall, giving the two men a fleeting smile before closing the door to the bedroom.

"She just called?" Nathan asked Julian as the other man led them to the kitchen. "Out of the blue?"

"Yeah. And I just went and got her."

"She was in trouble, Julian. Haley and I would have done the same thing," Nathan said, taking the bottle of water his friend offered. "I'm serious about killing that guy. I knew he was a jerk, but I never thought in a million years he lay a hand on Brooke."

"None of us did," Julian replied, eyes never leaving the door.

Haley gave her friend an encouraging smile as Brooke let herself be led back to the bathroom. "What happened?" she asked, softly as she could manage, rummaging through the shelves, finding a first aid kit. She grabbed hand towels and began filling the sink with hot water before turning back to her best friend. "Brooke?"

"Kyle happened," the distraught woman answered, shaking her head, bottom lip trembling. "He was trouble. You all said it. I chose to ignore you, and these are the consequences."

"No, Brooke. This should never be the consequence," Haley said, voice first, wringing out the towel she had just soaked. "Sit down," she said, nodding to the toilet. Brooke obeyed, flinching slightly when her friend gently pressed the towel against the cut on her face, "What happened?"

"Knife."

"Oh, Brooke…"

"It doesn't hurt now," she said honestly, shaking her head. "Nothing does. It's all numb."

Haley nodded, continuing to clean off the wound until the dried blood, tears, and dirt were gone, leaving a centimeter-deep cut winding down the otherwise smooth face, from just below her eyes to twist to the apple of her cheek, down straight before jerking across her face, nearly to her nose, before continuing downward, slicing through both top and bottom lip before continuing down her chin, disappearing underneath the dull gray shirt. "You need to go to a hospital."

"No."

"Brooke, this cut-"

"I can't. I would be humiliated. Haley-" she cried, desperate, and Haley nodded sadly, looking at the cut critically.

"You're going to have one hell of a scar, Brooke. I'm sorry-"

"I'm ugly on the inside; why shouldn't I be ugly on the out?" Brooke asked hastily.

"That's not true," Haley tried to argue, but one look from the brunette silenced her. "Let's get this jacket off you, huh?" She tried instead, and she was surprised when Brooke relinquished the green military jacket that had obviously once belonged to Kyle.

Haley's heart skipped a beat when she saw the darkening bruises on Brooke's upper arm, fading bruises trailing down the right forearm. The shirt she was wearing was slashed at the neckline, and Haley could see it was stuck to the skin by blood. "The shirt, too."

Brooke's eyes panicked. "Haley-"

"You either take off your shirt, or Julian and I take you to the hospital. Whatever you're hiding has to be bad, so let me see it."

Finally, finally, Brooke nodded, handing reaching for the torn and stained hem reluctantly, pulling the shirt up slowly before dropping it to the floor.

"Oh my God."

Her stomach-a small, burgeoning stomach once full of life-was covered in fist-sized bruises, boot-toe shaped contusions, all various sizes and shape. "It's gone."

"What is, Brooke?"

"The baby. It's gone. Dead. Kyle saw to that."

Haley felt the tears run down her cheeks as she reached for her friend's hand, squeezing it tight. Brooke looked up, and Haley knew she wasn't the only one crying, even if no tears fell from Brooke's eyes.

"I wanted it so badly. It was gonna change everything. And then he got mad, and he…he started punching me. And kicking me. Over and over and over again, until I started bleeding." She was gasping out sobs now, but Haley let her continue. "And it was all blood and then….and then it was this small…it was my child, Haley. He killed my child, and he didn't care! My baby was eight weeks old. _Eight_ weeks. I wanted to die. I still want to die. I don't know how to…I don't know how to survive. That baby was my survival, and now it's gone!" She was trembling, shaking terribly, and Haley wrapped her friend in a tight hug, feeling Brooke's tears staining her shirt. It didn't matter.

Nothing mattered but the crying woman in her arms, desperately wondering what she had done that was so bad that she deserved to lose her child.


	2. Two: Happy

**Title: **Happy

**Author: **S.N. Brown

**Summary:** He gave her a rush then, and she didn't hear Haley's concerns, Julian's attempts at reconciliation. She went from a powerful, up-and-coming designer to what she was now, the punching bag of a drunk, in a matter of weeks, and stayed that powerless woman for nearly two years. But she had had enough. B/L. Twoshot

**Pairing: **Brooke/Julian

**Disclaimer:** I do not own OTH or the characters. I'm just boring them, and will put them back when I'm done playing. I also don't own **Happy** from Leona Lewis, which I have used in this and the final chapter.

**Author's Notes:** Thank you for so many reviews! I'm sorry I haven't replied; I've been super busy at school (why is it that teachers decide to give tests before breaks?). Unfortunately, this is the end, but I am planning another, longer story. Let me know if that is something you guys would be interesting in reading. Review; they make my day!

Two: Happy

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_I gotta find my place_

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She watched the ocean smash into the beach from the wide bay window in the room she had been occupying for the past month, arms clasped tightly around her legs. Her hair had fallen in her face, but she didn't bother fixing it. Julian watched her from the doorway, hand clenching a hot cup of tea, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but for her to be like she was-a statue, silent, still, never flinching, never moving-wasn't normal.

"Brooke," he said again, and she looked to him.

The scar was scabbed over, nearly healed, and she tried to hide it, but it was noticeable against the paleness of her skin. "It's beautiful here," she said, biting her bottom lip. "We lived in a small apartment in Raleigh-barely enough room to breathe. Here, it's quiet and peaceful, you know?"

He nodded, setting the tea on the window seat. "The doctor said he needs to see you again next week, okay? Just to make sure everything is fine. The last one, I promise."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry, Brooke. I know this is hard for you-"

"You know nothing," she responded, grasping the tea tightly.

"Why don't you tell me, then?" Julian suggested, sitting beside her on the seat, not touching, but close enough for her taste. "You've been here almost a month, and…you won't tell me what happened. You sit here and stare out this window and…just tell me."

"No."

"Brooke-"

"No."

"C'mon, Brooke, you're-"

"I SAID NO!" she screamed, flinging the tea at him. She gasped in pain, glancing at him in fear before pushing off the bench, skirting around his hand as he reached for her. Oh God, she couldn't do this again. She couldn't go through this again. He'd punish her, that was for sure. Punish her with kicks, with punches, with slaps….punish her by taking away her baby.

Wooden steps gave way to soft, warm sand, but she kept running, feeling her body tire, feeling the tears coming without fail.

"Brooke!" Julian called, running after her, following her out of the house, onto the beach. "Brooke! Stop, Brooke!

All he could hear were her sobs as she collapsed on the ground. He felt his heart begin racing as he rushed over, dropping to his knees beside her body. "Brooke," he murmured, careful to not put his hands on her. "I'm not mad, Brooke. I'm not going to hit you. Never."

"That's…that's what he said," she said, flinching away from him. "He said he would never hurt me-and he hit me that day I left. He's pushed me down stairs, he's slapped me in front of his friends…"

"He's a bastard that deserves to die, but Brooke, that doesn't mean you can stop living. And it doesn't mean that every other guy is going to be like him. And I won't hit you. Period."

"You promise?" She was looking him in the eye now, the first time she had since he had brought her home.

He nodded, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "I promise you, Brooke. I will never lay a hand on you." Her eyes fell, and he shook his head, raising her chin so he could see those beautiful brown eyes he had fallen in love with years ago. "Keep your head up. You deserve better than to look at the floor all the time."

"I'm ugly, Julian. I don't want to look at the world, and I don't want it to look back at me."

"What? Why would you say that?" he whispered, watching her head fall before pushing it back up. "Remember, head high. You've got nothing to be ashamed of."

"Have you seen my face? I have everything to be ashamed of. I'm not smart, and I'm not even pretty anymore. And I could have stopped it-I could have stopped everything. But I didn't, because I didn't deserve to."

"You're wrong," Julian answered, pressing his lips on hers', his hand sliding through her hair easily. It was soft and silky, just like he remembered, and her lips were full and fit perfectly against him, something he had tried to forget but hadn't. He pulled away gently, nudging her nose with his. "You deserve the world. You deserved a guy who didn't put others before you and you deserved a guy who treated you wonderfully. I'm sorry I wasn't that guy before, but one day when you're ready, I'm willing to be that guy now. I don't care about Kyle, and I don't care about what happened before. I love you, and I'm going to keep loving you."

"Why?" she whispered, tears welling in her eyes as she stared at his arm, his hand still in her hair. "I left you. I didn't listen. I-"

"And I let you go," he murmured, pushing her hair back, pressing a kiss on the knife wound, on her eyebrow, her cheek, right below her lips, her neck…and then she shuddered away.

"No." Her voice was soft, but firm, and he smiled hearing her. There was some part of the old Brooke there, some part that wasn't willing to be silent.

"There you go. Fight," he said, raising her hand to kiss her middle knuckle. "It's still there…you're still there. You're just a little hidden, but we're going to get you out."

"You think it's still there?"

"I know it is."

And she believed him.

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_I wanna hear my sound_

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The room that Brooke had taken over was spacious, once an in-law suite, her safe haven. She didn't have that at the apartment; Kyle controlled every aspect of their small place, controlled how it was decorated, who was allowed to visit, how Brooke herself should act. He considered her "spot" the kitchen, and said she could have her way in there, but all else belonged to him and he would make sure she knew that at all costs.

She kept to her room as often as possible because it was her safe haven. She didn't go out with Haley (despite her friend's pleas), she didn't go into town with Julian (despite the lure of shopping he tried to use); she stayed in her room.

She needed her room today.

_"Irrevocable damage to your uterus and fallopian tubes….rendering you unable to conceive children."_

_It was the soft statement the doctor had given her as he entered the room after reviewing her newest set of scans, X-rays and tests. His hand reached for her shoulder, but she flinched, and it stopped, the movement halting. "I can't…" she whimpered, tears rushing from her. "It…he couldn't…"_

_ "I'm sorry, Ms. Davis. I've consulted several of our OBGYNs, I've consulted various doctors, but…you aren't going to be able to…the damage just can't be fixed on the inside, not in the way that it would take for you to have children."_

_ "It's the one thing I had, the one thing I was going to be able to be proud of…" she murmured, body shaking. She wrapped her arms around her knees resting her head on them. "No, you have to be wrong. Something has to be…"_

_ "I'm sorry, Brooke." He touched her, a soft hand on her shoulder. She didn't react, and he took that as a good sign. "These things happen-"_

_ "This didn't just happen!" Brooke shouted. "My boyfriend beat me! He hurt me! He killed my child, and he's killed any chance I'll have of ever having another one!"_

_ Doctor Roberts knew of Brooke's circumstances, so he didn't react, but he wished he could bring Julian in. She trusted him, even if she didn't know it; she leaned into him when he brought her in, she made sure he was close by in the waiting room, and she trusted him inexplicably not to hurt her._

_ "Brooke, can I go get Julian? Can I-?"_

_ "No," she said quickly shaking her head. "No, you can't. I don't want him here."_

_ "Honey, you need somebody, ok? This is hard, I know. Someone-" She sniffled, pushing hair out of her face, getting off the exam table. "Brooke, take some time before you go out there-"_

_ "No. Thank you, Doctor Roberts, but I'm going to…I need to go now."_

_ "Okay, but if you want to talk to anyone, I'm always here, and I can always recommend someone, too."_

_ "Thank you."_

_ She left the room, wooden, tense, miserable, fingers running over her flat stomach. It hadn't taken it long to shrink again, to give her back her womanly shape, but she hated it. She should be just showing now, and instead she was finding out that she would never have children again._

There was a soft knock on her door and she smiled, knowing it was Julian. She opened the door, surprised when he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. "Whatever it is, it's going to be okay," she heard him say into her hair. "I can make it right."

"It isn't your fault," she said.

"No, but we can't expect the dumbass to fix it, so I will."

He's started calling Kyle that fitting name, won't call him by the real one, and today it made her smile, and she laughed.

It was the first time she heard herself laugh in _years_.

God, it felt so good.

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_Don't care about other pain in front of me_

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Julian watched her smile across the table, eyes glittering, and, for once, she looked like his Brooke again. It had been four months since that fateful night, and though she hasn't said anything about what happened, what made her come back, he could guess, and he didn't care to bring it up again.

The scar across her face was dark, and though they'd been told it will fade over time, it will never go away. She's still self-conscious, put her hair down, tried to hide it, but to him, it doesn't matter.

He doesn't see it anymore.

"This was really good," she whispered. She didn't talk much anymore, and when she did, it was a whisper, but she would get there. Slowly, slowly she would get there, and he was prepared to wait for her.

"Maybe tomorrow you can help me?" he suggested, and she gave a weary half-nod.

"Don't you…don't you have work to do?" she asked, and he smiled. "What?"

"Don't worry about that; I had time coming to me, been working nonstop, so…I'm good. And should I chose to take on another project, we'll deal with it then."

"You don't need to stay, Julian. I can find somewhere else to go, Nathan, Haley…my own place. I still own my house, right? I mean, I don't know and…"

"We took care of it. It's there if you ever want to go back, but I don't mind being here, being with you. I want to stay, if this is what you want."

She let the words soak through her, letting out a breath before setting down her wine glass, standing up. "It's what I want," she answered before kissing him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she straddled his lap. He sat still for a second, feeling nothing but the friction, the heat, but he pushed her away, looking at her, questioning her.

"Brooke, what are you doing?"

"I'm…oh, God, you don't want me, do you? Am I making a fool-"

"No, Brooke, hell no. I dream about this, I want this, but I want it when _you _are ready," he said, pulling her down to kiss her softly. "And I can wait. I've become a very patient man." He smiled, and she did too, leaning in to kiss him again. Lips barely touched, but so intimate, and Julian felt like he could stay this way for the rest of his life and be okay.

But then she felt the weight of her secret on her shoulders, and the smile fell. He noticed instantly, pulling away again. "Brooke-"

"I was pregnant before I called you. I was eight weeks pregnant, and I told Kyle, and he was happy, for once. I thought…I thought that it would change things, change him. And then came two days before I called you. I was late making dinner, and for that he punched me and kicked me so much in my stomach that I miscarried the baby." She felt him tense, but she forced herself to stay calm, stay focused. "There was blood everywhere, and it hurt, and I still have scars on me of boot impressions. They won't ever go away."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, and she shook her head, putting her finger over his mouth. "I'm not done." She felt a wave of support run through her when he kissed her finger, eyes on hers', forcing her to keep looking at him. "Last month, when I went to the doctor that last time, he told me I can't have children anymore. Kyle cause so much damage to my reproductive organs that they can't fix what's broken. So I can't have your children. Ever. There can't be a miracle baby, there can't be anything. I'm broken and I'm unfixable."

"Never say that," he said, his voice firm. "You aren't broken, Brooke, and I don't care."

"What?" She pulled away from him, but he wouldn't let her go.

"I. Don't. Care. I would love for you to have my children, but it's not a deal breaker. It's not…that's not even on my radar right now. I just want to get you to love you. I want you to see why I can love you, why I do love you. So no, I don't care."

"You want me to love me?" she asked, and he nodded. "Why? I left you, I-"

"You are the love of my life, Brooke Davis. But you aren't the same girl you used to be, and while that's okay, you used to love yourself. It's there, buried somewhere deep, and I'm willing to help you uncover it because it's what you deserve."

She kissed him them, and she felt a part of Brooke Davis return.

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_Cause I'm just trying to be happy_

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"You're beautiful," Julian whispered against the skin of Brooke's neck, feeling her hands tugging his shirt out of his pants, fingers working on the tiny buttons that kept it closed. He whispered reverently against the soft, creamy silkiness of her skin as he kissed up the column of her neck. Their lips met again, and Brooke smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I love you," she said, leaning her forehead against his. "I love you. God, I love you."

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his hands skirting the hem of her shirt. "We don't have to do anything."

"I want to do something," she laughed, gripping her shirt to pull it off herself when he stopped her. "Julian-"

"I'm doing this right," he whispered, gently pulling the shirt off her body. He expected her to shy away; she usually did when they hit this stage, but she trusted him, her heart beating fast when he tossed her shirt somewhere in his room. He leaned in, kissing between her collar bone, the swell of her breasts before moving back up , his lips brushing the scar that ran down her collar bone. "I love you."

"God," she gasped, peeling his shirt off. "I'm ready."

"Tell me if you want to stop. I will," he promised, reaching around her body, fingers skirting up her back until they found the clasp of her bra, unhooking it.

He had seen the scar as it dipped into her bra on many of their makeout sessions that were taken too far, but he had never seen the extent of it. He didn't spend time thinking about it as he crushed their bodies together, hands running through her hair. Six months since their first meeting in the park, and here she was, back to nearly the woman she had been, still rough around the edges, but not back in the dark place.

He saw her take a deep breath, and he promised himself that she would remember their love, and when they made love; he'd erase whatever bad memories she had of Kyle. She giggled when he backed her up to the bed, feeling her body bend, Julian following her down.

Her hands reached for the button on his jeans, and he watched her carefully, for signs of nervousness or panic; he refused to panic her. "Julian, I'm fine," she murmured, grinning up at him, catching his lips. "I'm happy; I love you. I'm happy. We're going to be fine."

-----------

_Just wanna be happy_

-----------

Brooke Davis stared at herself in the mirror as she brushed out her hair, focusing on the thin white line that traipsed down her face to her collar bone, disappearing underneath one of Julian's t-shirts. Once upon a time (not too long ago), she would have hidden it, but now she barely remembered it was there. Every once in a while, when the day had been awful and she wanted to do nothing but go to sleep, she could feel it hurting.

And then Julian made it better.

She heard the door to the bathroom open, and she smiled at him in the mirror as he walked towards her vanity. His hand caught the brush, stilling her movements, and her heart slowed, panic raising in the back of her mind. When he bent and gently nipped her neck in an open invitation, she let her breath out.

"I will never hurt you," he whispered in her ear, kissing behind it. She knew that, but it would always be in the back of her mind, an instinctual act. "I love you. Come to bed, Brooke."

She let him pull her up, watched as he set her brush down beside the mirror and comb the set came with, a wedding gift from him. _Just in case you ever need to remember to love yourself_ he had said when he had given it to her.

She used the brush every day.

Five years ago, had someone told Brooke that she would be back with Julian, wrapped in his arms, that broken-down girl would have muttered something and stared hard at the floor. Today, she was just grateful for his support, not only in the mess that was her personal life, but also her business life as well as she launched a comeback line and became an advocate for Domestic Violence prevention. The girl five years before would never have believed she could have a happily ever after.

The girl now knew she would have nothing but.

---**Fini**---


End file.
